Skywalker
by Just Anny
Summary: When Luke Skywalker gets caught by the Empire for helping a Rebel, his heritage is quickly found out and acted upon. Now he has to survive by his own instincts and morals, while caught in the middle of a political struggle between the Emperor, Grand Moff Tarkin, Darth Vader and the Rebel Alliance. He quickly learns there is only one person he can rely on: himself.
1. Prologue

_A bit of information beforehand:_

 _This story was gravely inspired by James Luceno's "Star Wars: Tarkin" and black101's "Son of Suns Trilogy". Both book and fanfictions are an amazing read and I really do suggest you read them._

 _Secondly, this fanfiction might have some dark themes from time to time and will contain DarkSide!Luke. Don't like, don't read I guess._

 _Please don't forget to leave a review after reading; I really do appreciate any feedback you could give to me and it inspires/motivates me immensely._

 _Enjoy :)_

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 **\- PROLOGUE -**

 **Tatooine, Beggar's Canyon. 4 BBY**

Covering his mouth with his right hand, he backed up against the rock behind him. He could feel the ground shaking and a few paddles dropped from the cliff. They made small sounds, hitting the sides from time to time. With the AT-ST only a few meters away, the rebel could barely hear them reach the bottom.

"Did you hear that?", he could hear one of the Stormtroopers say below him. He swallowed.

"Go check it out, I'll make sure this cave is locked down", his partner replied.

Realizing that his left leg was slightly hovering over the edge of the cliff, he braced himself and pulled his back with both his hands. He couldn't help but hiss as the pain coursed through his body.

He could hear the AT-ST's massive feet turn and take one step towards him.

This was where he was about to die. Not in a space battle, not during a mission, but here; on a desert planet in the Outer Rim with his A-Wing crash-landed a few kilometers back and a blaster wound in both his stomach and leg. He still had his blaster pistol though, but knew it wouldn't do any harm against a bloody AT-ST.

As the AT-ST took another step closer and the Stormtrooper beneath him inspected the area, he briefly wondered if Brand had survived the crash. It was a small hope, but a significant one nonetheless. That him being here would be a good distraction for his friend to get away.

The Walker shot at a spot to his right and he flinched, tensing up. One of the rocks fell down due to the impact and the rebel could hear one of the Stormtroopers yell: "Hey! Watch where you're shooting!"

There was a moment of silence. The only thing that made a sound was the AT-ST walking around his rock, trying to find him. With a shaking hand, the rebel took a hold of his DH-17 and held it to his chest. If he was going to die, he would rather die fighting.

A shot rang through the sky, loud enough to be heard from a mile away. The rebel could hear-feel-the Walker turn away from him, looking for its assaulter. Another shot could be heard. Hearing it for the second time, he knew it was not a laser blast but in fact a solid projectile. Not many people wielded that kind of weapon anymore.

The AT-ST walked away, shooting at something in the distance. The Stormtroopers beneath him followed suit, most probably convinced that they had found their target. He released the breath he was holding, but didn't allow himself to relax just yet.

Someone—or something—yelled somewhere far away from him. It sounded like an animal taunting its prey.

Suddenly, the rebel got unsure whether his 'savior' was actually better than the Empire or not. He surely wasn't going to stick around to find out.

He pulled himself up, leaning against the rock to keep him steady. He knew he could probably have climbed off the cliff easily in a different situation, but with his current injuries, he wasn't even sure if he could take a single step. There was however no other choice but to try. The Imperials would come back at one point and this was the only way he could take without possibly being seen.

Step for step he made his way forward. His left leg was almost completely numbed from the pain, but he ignored it for the sake of surviving as he lowered himself down the cliff, using all of his strength in his fingers and other leg to not fall down.

He was shaking and he had trouble keeping himself close to the rocks. Carefully, he took another step downward, using his left leg to step on a rock momentarily and quickly switching it with his right soon after. His breath hitched. He clenched his hands tighter against the rocks but could feel his strength slipping.

"No, no, no...", he muttered, panicked. "Not yet... Please."

He had to take another step down; he had to. But his body would simply not allow it. His muscles were frozen into place, trembling under the pressure. He felt himself slipping and there was nothing he could do but hold on with all of his strength.

It was not enough and he fell down.

A sharp pain ran through his back and then—nothing.

.

.

.

"Okay so, we take the long turn left, do a long circle around the Rid, through Beggar's and whoever comes out first wins", Tank summarized. "Sounds good?"

"If it wasn't good, we wouldn't have decided to take the route ten minutes ago", Laze or 'Fixer' pointed out, sounding quite irritated. Luke knew him well enough to know that he was just teasing though. "Besides, it's your last race before you leave, so it's only fair if you were the one to choose the route in the end."

Tank nodded slightly. "We'll do this route then. The loser will have to clean the speeders. All of them." They all agreed; it was a penalty they used quite often. "Anything else?"

"Only that I'll see you at the finish", Biggs laughed and jumped into his X-14 Landspeeder before going off.

"Hey, that's a false start!", Luke called after him and got into his speeder as well.

Luke had always liked racing, especially when it was with his friends. He liked the feeling of the wind going through his hair. To see his surrounding blur. It was a moment of freedom, as if he was suddenly not a farm boy anymore and had ventured in a completely different reality. One where there were no responsibilities and where only one thing mattered: whether you won or lost.

And he was not going to lose today.

Already caught up with Biggs, he steered himself a bit to the left. He glanced up at the Rid, trying to judge their position from the angle of the rocks. Using his instincts to judge the right time, he put his foot on the break, took the sharp turn right and immediately pressed the gas again. He couldn't help but let out a laugh when he cut Biggs off and flew by.

Now on the lead, Luke only had to concentrate on the road ahead of him. He knew the others knew a lot more about this route due to their experiences in the past, but with his reflexes, he knew he would be able to pull this off.

His concentration suddenly left him when he could hear a shot somewhere in the distance. Probably the Sandpeople. He let out a curse and glanced back at his friends. He was relieved to see Biggs still on his tail, followed by Tank and Fixer, who were both going neck on neck.

Knowing he couldn't allow himself to be caught off guard, he looked forward again. He breathed in deeply and let out a shaky breath. Now, all that was left was Beggar's Canyon.

From his friends and some other people back at Anchorhead, he knew that the Podraces used to be held here, a long time ago. That whoever raced through the canyon and got out of there alive, almost automatically won the race, just because of how dangerous the passages and other racers were. Luke grinned slightly at the thought; how awesome would it be if he was able to participate in something like that?

Of course his Aunt and Uncle would never allow it, but hey, he could dream, right?

From a corner of his eye, Luke saw Biggs trying to go by him from his right side. He pursed his lips. He did not know when the next corner would be. He could cut his friend off of course, but if the passage were to go left during that time, Luke would get in serious trouble. He was just about to take the risk anyway, when suddenly he felt really agitated to do so.

Something was wrong.

That was when he saw the body lying on the ground only a few meters from them.

Luke widened his eyes and made the split decision to angle his speeder to the side and put his foot on the break, forcing Biggs to do so as well.

"Hey! You could have killed us both with that", Biggs exclaimed.

"What's going on, guys? If you wanted to clean the speeders, you could have just said so." That would be Tank. Both him and Fixer had stopped behind them as well, forced due to the width of the passage.

"That's all Luke, I swear. That kid just stopped out of nowhere."

"... Wormie?"

Luke swallowed. "There's something over there. I think... it's a body."

His friends were slightly alarmed at that. "Tusken Raiders?"

"Could be... You guys heard that shot too, right?"

"Yeah, I thought that was farther away from here though. C'mon, let's check it out", Biggs was already out of his speeder when he said that.

"If the Sandpeople shot them, they might still be out there."

"All the more reason to find out what happened, c'mon!"

There had always been something about Biggs that made Luke want to follow him. There was an air of confidence around him, knowing when to do the right thing and when to just mind his own business. It might just be a form of blind trust-biased because he saw him as his best friend, an older brother even-but to Luke, everything he did made sense. Including this.

Coming closer, Luke could see that the body was actually that of a human male whose skin had already reddened because of the sunburns. _Off-worlder, probably._ It looked painful, but not nearly as painful as the odd angle his legs seemed to be in, one bone sticking out of his skin, or the wound he had in his stomach. Luke swallowed. "He must have fallen off the cliff somehow."

"That's not all. Do you see the wounds in his leg and gut? Those aren't cycler-wounds. They're from a blaster." Biggs knelt beside the man to inspect him more carefully and gasped. "He's still alive."

"It must be a Hutt mercenary then. If that's the case, I'd rather just go back and keep my head, thank you very much", Fixer looked around warily.

"We can't just leave him here to die!", Luke exclaimed.

"If we get ourselves caught into Hutt business, we don't only get ourselves in trouble but others as well. Trust me, Wormie... It's better if we stay out of this."

Luke hated that nickname. Usually he didn't really mind it, as it had always been affectionate to him. But now, it just seemed patronizing. "If we walk away, we won't be any better than them."

"Luke's right. We have to help."

"Biggs, you know this is a bad—"

"We don't know if he was taken out by the Hutts. It might as well have been something else completely. It should not matter anyway: if others are in trouble, we don't turn our back on them."

Biggs and Fixer stared at each other.

Tank coughed to get their attention. "Even if we do try to help him, how do we get him away from here?"

"We have our speeders, no?", Luke said, confused as to why that would even be a problem.

"Yes, but this guy's legs are clearly broken. If we try to move him, his condition might get worse."

Luke pursed his lips. "We'll figure something out."

"And even then, where do we take him?", Tank pointed out. "We can't take him with us to Anchorhead, at least not to my home... My parents have finally allowed me to go to the Academy, I will not pass the opportunity by bringing a stranger into our home."

"Neither would my aunt and uncle", Luke looked down. "They hate strangers."

"Tosche Station." Everyone looked at Fixer confused and he glanced away. "We can make the space if we try our best. No one comes there these days anyway, except for us, Deak, Windy and Camie at least. What? If we do help him, we might as well do it right. This way we won't involve anyone else." With Deak and Windy looking for parts in Mos Eisley, only Camie would be there. They all knew her well enough to know that she'd _want_ to get involved.

Biggs smiled slightly. "Let's do it."

.

.

.

 **Tatooine, Tosche Station. Two hours later.**

"I've done all I could but without any bacta treatment, don't expect he will be back on his feet any time soon. Or at all, for that matter." The old man tied the bandage together, pulling it tight. The wounded men arched his back and groaned, though still didn't give any sign of consciousness. "Make sure he keeps hydrated. He is your responsibility now, realize that." He pointed his finger against Fixer's chest and left the station.

Luke released a breath he didn't know he was holding ever since the healer had entered the building. The old man hadn't seemed to choose between smacking and helping them—and that was quite the understatement.

After having explained the situation to Camie, she persisted someone had to look at him, even if it had to mean involving someone else from Anchorhead. Biggs and Tank had agreed with her—and it wasn't even a question whether Fixer agreed with her or not; he was a sucker to anything Camie said these days.

They hadn't even asked Luke about his opinion on the matter.

"So, what now?", he asked to fill up the silence.

"We wait until he wakes up and then we get him to talk. We can't really find out what happened to him otherwise", Fixer answered. Luke suspected Fixer was still pissed off at him, but was mature enough to not let it show in any other way than a slight irritation in his voice.

He sighed and sat down. "Sorry that we didn't get to finish the race, you guys." Luke couldn't help but look at Tank while saying this. The guy shrugged.

"Who knows, this guy might bring us more excitement than that race could ever give us. Besides, we already knew who would win anyway."

"Yeah, me", Biggs couldn't help but say.

"Hey, I was way ahead of all of you."

"I was catching up to you and you know it. A few seconds longer…"

"But you didn't get a few seconds longer", Luke smirked.

"If it were up to me, you'd both get disqualified", Fixer interjected. "You both started way before we said you could."

"Technicalities", Biggs laughed. His laugh was infectious to the rest of them as well.

Suddenly, Luke's eyes were drawn to the wounded man, who they had put on one of the tables earlier and was now trying to sit up. "Hey, don't!" He rushed towards him and pushed him down slightly. The man seemed to comply.

"Where…?" His voice seemed dry and croaked. It reminded Luke a bit of how his own voice had been when he got dehydrated last season.

"You're wounded and dehydrated. Drink some water." He lifted the man's face and helped him drink. "Easy… Too much at the same time and it'll lose its purpose." Luke—and everyone on Tatooine, really—was accustomed to the heat and the consequences it could have. He could remember his Aunt Beru saying the exact same thing when he was younger.

"My legs", the man's voice croaked again, but sounded a bit better now. "I can't feel them."

Luke frowned and looked at the others, a bit lost on what to do now.

Biggs moved forward. "Can you remember what happened?", he asked.

The man looked panicked. "I… Brand… we were attacked. Our squad was ambushed and— "He gasped and sat up. Luke tried to push him down again but to no avail. "I need to get out of here."

"You're in no condition to go anywhere. Your legs are broken and the blaster wound on your stomach nearly killed you", Biggs informed him. "You won't be able to take one step."

"You don't understand. If the Imperials find out that I'm here…"

"Wait, the Empire? There are no Imperials here, not in Anchorhead."

"If they're not here already, then they'll come. And they'll kill me and every one of you for helping me."

"You're a Rebel", Tank stared at him.

"That the Empire is after him doesn't mean he's a Rebel", Biggs looked at him pointedly.

"Why else would an off-worlder be here on Tatooine? With a squad no less?"

"But— "

"I am part of the Rebel Alliance", the man confirmed, interrupting him. They all looked at him in shock. "We were only going to Tatooine to repair our ships, but the Empire must have tracked us somehow. They were already waiting for us when we got here." He swallowed. "They will try anything to get a hold of us. So please, I have to go. For both our sakes."

The childhood friends looked at each other, unsure on what to do. Luke briefly thought of the possibility to take the Rebel somewhere else again, even without the others' help, but he just didn't know where to take him.

"I will not help a Rebel", Tank lifted his chin. "We should turn him in before it's too late."

"I agree."

"Fixer— ", Camie tried to reason with him, but the youth shook his head.

"I will not put ourselves and other in danger any longer, especially not you. I promised the old man that I would take care of this station while he's not here, but if this is truly the Empire we're talking about here and not the Hutts, there won't be any station to take care of and no Merl Tosche to explain what happened to it either."

"By helping a Rebel, we'll mark ourselves as a traitor to the Empire", Tank added. "What happened to your sense of justice? How could you defend someone that is a part of the organization that caused the terrorist attack at Fondor earlier this week? Hell, I bet you participated in it, didn't you?" He was glaring at the Rebel now.

The way the Rebel tensed his jaw and straightened his back was enough of an answer.

"I don't want you to help me anymore than you do. Just get me far enough from here and I swear I'll be out of your lives forever."

"They will find you before you can get anywhere else", Biggs shook his head.

"And that is if you don't die from your wounds or dehydration first", Luke added. "You need someone to take care of you, even if it's just for a little while."

"Didn't we promise each other that we'd all go to the Academy one day?", Tank asked. There was a hint of sadness in his voice. "Biggs, weren't you able to go there in just another year or two? And Luke—your dream was to be a pilot, wasn't it? Are you really willing to give that all up, just like that? For a stranger, no less?"

Luke looked down, silenced. Tank was right; it would not be worth giving that all up and getting everyone killed if the Empire were to find out. But still, to turn in a man, wounded no less, just because he was a part of the Rebel Alliance was _wrong_. Didn't he say he just wanted to repair his ship when he came here and that the Empire ambushed them? He swallowed. "And what if the Empire won't find out we have him here?"

"I can't believe this…", Fixer shook his head and sighed exasperated. "You can't be _that_ naïve. It is the _Empire_ , Luke. It's what they do."

"We have a whole bunch of converters downstairs. We can hide him between them, make it seem like he isn't even there. Please, Fixer. If he is out there any longer, he'll die. You know the consequences of dehydration." Fixer's eyes hardened and Luke knew he made a mistake saying that; his niece had died of dehydration last season and Luke knew he still hasn't moved past it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— "

"It's fine", Fixer cut him off. He sighed. "Alright. We'll let him recover for two more days. After that, you're on your own." Camie seemed to brighten up with that. He glanced at her and looked away.

"I'll make sure everything's set up downstairs", Luke stood up and grinned at his childhood friend. "I swear; you will not regret it."

Fixer nodded and smiled back slightly.

.

The Imperials came the day after.


	2. Chapter One

_Thanks sodorland, WeylandCorp 4, TheeFirstEvil, Silence Dogood II, Guest (no name? ;-;) and just finished (Guest) for reviewing on the last chapter! I hope this one will not disappoint and will give you a good impression on what tone I want this story to have. Please enjoy and leave a review after finishing to tell me what you think._

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 **\- CHAPTER ONE -**

 _"I don't think he'll be coming anymore…"_

 _"He's still alive; I know it. He just needs a bit more time."_

 _"The Empire has crowded the area. He's lost. We need to rendezvous with the fleet. Our mission is too important to risk any further just to look of one of our own. If he's still alive, he'll find his way back eventually."_

 _The pilot nodded sadly._

.

.

Before it was deemed habitable, the Tatoo system had once been an anomaly to many researchers. With the sand planet of Tatooine orbiting its two stars, Tatoo I and Tatoo II, it had left such a reflection, that it almost seemed like a sun itself. While two stars had been an anomaly in itself, three would have been unthinkable.

However, once humans tried to colonize the system, they discovered the truth. The planet, scorched by the heat its twin suns radiated, was completely removed of its water and nature, until only the sand and rocks remained. For a long time, it had been habited by few, merely a few animals and unintelligent creatures who drowned in the heat as if it was a part of them.

This was until some humans became determined to take on the challenge that was laid down before them and started taking the planet as if it was their own, using the moisture in the air as a method to collect the water and the meat and milk of the animals so they would not starve.

It was a truth many youths were told during their first years at school and one Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin only remembered the basics of. It was one that he had always deemed lacking to others that set more of an example of how the Empire should be.

Yet know, when he stood on the bridge of the _ISD Executrix_ and felt the heat reaching his skin and sweat run down his neck, did Tarkin realize just how much his young self had misinterpreted the meaning of the story.

That it was a story of survival, determination and above all, the superiority of mankind.

It reminded him of his time at the Carrion Plateau back at his home planet of Eriadu, where he had learned lessons that he took with him even now, many years later.

Seeing the reflection of one of his officers in the window in front of him, Tarkin turned his shoulders and nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"The shuttle has been docked successfully, Governor", Admiral Dayne told him. "The Rebel prisoner has been transferred into his cell on the lower levels."

"And Skywalker?"

"We were unsure where to take the Rebel conspirator so put him in a cell as well."

"I will decide whether he should be classed as such or not, Admiral", Tarkin reprimanded him. "He is to be taken to my quarters. I will meet with him there."

The Admiral shifted his feet together and nodded. Recognizing the dismissal, Dayne turned and walked away.

"Admiral."

The man stopped and turned around again.

"No harm is to be done to him without my jurisdiction, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Watching the man leave, Tarkin allowed himself to smile. Admiral Dayne had been a loyal officer ever since he had come into his service together with the _Executrix_. He had been a mere Deck Officer back then, though a pilot at heart. His strategic insight and leadership was exceptional, yet because he was from Alderaan, a planet already suspected of conspiracy against the Empire, he would never have had the opportunity to rise up the ranks as much as Tarkin had allowed him.

And the Admiral had proved himself capable many times, now completely loyal to Tarkin—and in effect, the Emperor—in every sense of the word.

He turned to his current Deck Officer. "Tell the _Annihilator_ to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet at Scarif. Our forces have been divided for too long. We'll handle the situation from here."

After the Rebel attack on Fondor, various Star Destroyers had been dispatched to take care of the remaining Rebel freighters. The _ISD Annihilator_ was one of them, yet had been unable to bring their pursuit to a successful end. The MC80 Star Cruiser had fled their grasp, leaving only a few Rebel ships behind.

And even those few ships they hadn't been able to catch, at least not without calling for an extra supply of ground troops to take care of the Rebels on Tatooine.

Needless to say, Admiral Kev, who had been the commanding officer on the _Annihilator,_ was now honorably discharged for his failure here today. He would be transferred to the Seswenna sector, where he was given the jurisdiction to supervise the Rimma Trade Route as it had been crawling with smugglers lately.

It was a waste. Yet, Tarkin mused, incompetence did not belong in Emperor Palpatine's Empire and if it had been the _SSD Executor_ that had come to their aid, Admiral Kev—now Captain Kev—would have been long dead by now.

Of course, Darth Vader would never bother to catch a few rogue Rebels—and under normal circumstances, neither would Grand Moff Tarkin.

This was not a normal circumstance, however, as Tarkin knew from Kev's report that they had picked up something peculiar on their scanners while pursuing the Rebel freighter; that one of those Rebel fighters carried a device transmitting Imperial codes. Tarkin suspected that this device was why the Rebels attacked Fondor in the first place.

The device had stopped transmitting once the Rebels arrived on the planet, but now that they had one of them in captivity, they would have no trouble finding the others.

It was a welcoming addition that he got to find out about Anakin Skywalker's son as well, or so he suspected.

Just the name _Skywalker_ hadn't been enough to raise his suspicions; anyone in the galaxy could have been named the same. This was however not anywhere in the galaxy. It was Tatooine. Anakin Skywalker's home planet.

It was something the Jedi Knight had told him once, when they had to work together during the Clone Wars. That he grew up in a desert planet in the Outer Rim, so that he knew what it was like to live on a planet that didn't _want_ you to live on it.

It didn't take Tarkin long to find out which planet this actually was, even if all information about the Jedi was removed from public knowledge, any detail released strictly supervised by the Emperor.

It had been the photo that did the trick though.

It showed a teenage boy whose skin was tanned by the sun, not as much as Anakin Skywalker's had been. Yet the shape of his face, the eyes, the chin… It all screamed Anakin Skywalker to him.

So now, as Tarkin walked towards his quarters where he was about to meet the boy, he couldn't help but think about what he'd do if the boy was truly related to Anakin Skywalker and in effect, also Darth Vader.

Yes… a welcoming addition indeed.

.

.

.

Luke Skywalker couldn't help but look around as he was being walked through the hallways of the Star Destroyer. He had never been on one before, only having seen them on the HoloNet. However, the fact that he was being escorted by stormtroopers because he was suspected of treason against the Empire—and rightfully so—kind of took away the experience.

"Where are we going?", Luke couldn't help but ask the man that was walking in front of him. He was unmistakably an officer, from the way he walked to the clothing that he had, so very different from the white armor of a stormtrooper.

There was something about him that made Luke want to talk with him. Perhaps it was the long brown hair that was hidden underneath his cap, tied together into a tail with a few strands of hair escaping its tight grasp. It gave away something unruly-Luke could deal with a little bit of unruly. It had a delicate contrast with the behavior of the stormtroopers around him.

 _Left... Right... Left... Right..._

He sighed when he realized the answer to his question wouldn't come. Perhaps he had assessed the officer in front of him wrongly.

Luke glanced at a stormtrooper to his right, trying to find a piece of skin or _something_. There was nothing.

 _Are they even human?_

He remembered when he first saw them, only a day or two ago-he didn't know exactly how much time had passed since then. Somehow they had found out about the Rebel. It was the only logical reason he could think of, judging from the matter they had searched through the station.

As if they knew where to find him.

Biggs had cursed Tank, saying that he must have contacted the Empire. That he betrayed them.

Luke hadn't known what to think. Looking back, the teen knew that Tank would have been the most likely to give them away. Everything that he'd said pointed that way.

Though for some reason, Luke couldn't bring himself to blame him. Luke had thought that what he had done was right, even if it was at the cost of others. How could he judge Tank for doing the exact same thing?

Still, it hurt to think his friend would do such a thing, who knew fully well what the consequences would be. They were captured by the Empire-all of them. In fact, Luke didn't even know if the others were still alive; he hadn't seen them since they were all taken to different cells on Tatooine. Had they been transferred to this Star Destroyer too?

He bit his lip from the uncertainty that overtook him. Luke had always wished for an adventure to happen to him, yet now that it was finally here, it scared him. He wanted his friends. He _needed_ his friends.

Yet they were nowhere to be seen.

"Grand Moff Tarkin will see you now", Luke looked up to look the officer in front of him in the eyes. They had stopped. "If you want to address him, you will do so as Governor at first and then Sir. Answer his questions accurately and truthfully and I'm sure he won't keep you in there for too long."

The officer gave Luke a small smile and the teen couldn't help but return it.

A stormtrooper opened the door and they went in. The room felt out of place to Luke. It looked like a living room—scratch that, a very luxurious living room. Almost all the walls were littered with paintings, while one wall was completely covered with books, carefully placed and neatly sorted. One large painting stuck out before the rest, conveniently placed so that anyone that'd enter the room couldn't help but look at it.

The yellow eyes of the Emperor stared back at him, piercing his soul with all that he was worth. On the right side of his throne was the man who Luke recognized as Darth Vader. He faintly remembered the looks on his Aunt and Uncle's faces whenever he would be shown on the HoloNet; one of care and terror, as if they had a fear that something would happen, but it never did.

On the Emperor's left was a man wearing the same uniform as the officer that had escorted Luke: dark green with puffed pants, black boots and a straight collar. Obviously a higher rank than the other officer in this room, the man held his position with pride and dignity as was clear from both his stance on the portrait and his stance right now, as he was standing in front of them with his hands clasped together behind him and his back straightened.

Grand Moff Tarkin and the enforcer of the well-known Tarkin Doctrine turned his head to Luke and spoke. "Good evening. We have much to discuss." He gestured to the table in the middle of the room that took up half its space (which was quite the feat). "Sit."

Luke swallowed and knew that he didn't have much choice, so he did what he was told, for now. He watched as Tarkin went to sit down as well, never losing his posture. All Luke could think of was just how powerful this man must be. His presence was much different from anyone else he'd ever met.

.

Tarkin looked up from the boy's eyes, breaking his gaze to look at Admiral Dayne. "Leave us. Two troopers will be more than sufficient."

Dayne nodded tightly, clasping his heels together and left. Two stormtroopers were left to guard the door in case something went wrong, yet Tarkin had the feeling it wouldn't be. The boy, Skywalker, looked like an animal trapped into a corner.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Skywalker swallowed and nodded.

"Let me specify, do you know why you're here, in this room?"

The boy hesitated. "I don't, Sir—Governor", he corrected quickly. "Where are we, exactly?"

Tarkin gave him a thin smile. "If you don't mind, I'll be asking the questions here. After all, you _are_ convicted of treason against the Empire."

"Am I?"

"You are", Tarkin confirmed. Skywalker straightened his back. "Is that news to you?"

"Yes... but not really surprising, I guess."

"It shouldn't be. Even on a planet as yours, anyone knows what the consequences of your actions would be." Tarkin granted him a few seconds of silence, leaving him to think about what he did. "But you were with others of course. And you are still young, easily manipulated. Perhaps you felt pressured to follow them?"

Skywalker's eyes snapped up at that. "No, I didn't. It was me that pushed them into the situation. They are not to blame."

 _Interesting..._ Tarkin leaned back in his chair, eyeing the boy. _How very much like Anakin Skywalker, indeed._ He'd only known Anakin for a short period during the Clone Wars, yet he'd grown a certain amount of respect towards the Jedi during that time, the same way how he'd grown to respect Darth Vader. His personality, to always protect the ones he cared for even if it meant to be politically incorrect, was what he also saw in the boy right now.

"Tell me, do you have a family?"

The teen nodded.

"Tell me about them."

"I live with my aunt and uncle on a moisture farm. We've always lived a quiet and secluded life there", Luke added as if it would prove his innocence.

"Your parents?"

"I... never knew them. Uncle Owen told me my mother died when I was born. My father was a navigator on a space freighter. I think he died as well; my uncle never told me what happened to him, but I think it's just to not make me feel bad."

"Do you know their names?"

Skywalker shook his head.

"I see." Tarkin couldn't help but think about what the boy just said. Anakin hadn't been a navigator, obviously, but it could have also just been a way for his aunt and uncle to keep his heritage a secret. He leaned back in his chair and raised his hand to his chin, in thought.

"I'm sorry, but... where are my friends?", Skywalker asked, filling the silence.

"Irrelevant."

"I won't answer any more questions until I've seen them."

Tarkin lifted his chin and stood up. "That will not be necessary." He turned to the stormtroopers standing at the door. "Get him back to his cell."

Luke seemed bothered by the thought, yet let himself get taken away. Tarkin realized that once he'd know about his friends' fate, Luke would be much less complying. At least, that was if what he was saying was true. That he had no affiliation with his father whatsoever. That he in fact believed him to be dead.

And then there was the risk of not knowing whether Vader knew about the boy or not.

Tarkin thought it unlikely that he didn't. The Sith Lord had countless of resources now, build up over the years. That he did not know about his own son, was almost unthinkable.

The Grand Moff picked up his cup of caf and took a sip. If Vader knew about his son, then why would he hide him? On a godforsaken planet like this, much less? Did the Emperor know?

"I wonder..."

If the Emperor did not know, then Vader was hiding it from him. Hiding something, anything from the Emperor was a form of treason. The knowledge that Tarkin had now would be a leverage then. A way to control the Sith more than he could now.

It was a grand opportunity yet, Tarkin knew, absolutely out of question when there were so many risks in play.

.

But what if the Sith Lord truly did not know of Luke, however unlikely it was?

Talking to Vader would be a lost opportunity then, completely compromising both his knowledge and his intentions, both to the Sith Lord and the Emperor. No, he could not allow himself to falter now, not when his plan was finally almost realized. Not when he was on the verge of gaining grand power, one that earlier generations of his lineage could only dream of.

Tarkin thought back to his time at the Carrion Spike and the lessons he had learned beforehand. He thought back to the decision he made back then and the decision he had to make now, and concluded with an odd sense of satisfaction that his plan would have to be both the same and vastly different.

And that if he were to play his cards right, _he_ would end up a victorious in a way that he never had before.

But first, he would have to know the players.

.

Admiral Dayne was reading dispatches when he received the comm. "Dayne", he answered.

"Admiral", the voice of Grand Moff Tarkin ran through the device, "send knowledge to our troops on the planet. Tell them to hide any word from the Rebel's accomplices from public knowledge."

"But sir, I thought they would be used as an example?"

"The plan has been changed, Admiral."

Dayne breathed in sharply, having a good idea why. "Yes sir."

"Send officer Wright to Tatooine with a decent escort. I have a special case for him that I'd like him to execute. He will send him the knowledge he needs personally. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir. Shall I remove the transmission from the logs?"

"You are sharp as ever, Admiral. But no, an absence in the logs would bring more questions than it would remove them. The transmission will be coded and set on a high level clearance. I will rely on you to make sure any questions will be cared for."

"What would you like me to tell them?"

"The truth, Admiral. As you would see it."

Admiral Dayne smiled. He knew the Governor well enough to know that he was being tested, as any officer was who worked under his command. This one would be no different than the others. "Understood sir. I will not disappoint."

.

.

.

"Yes... No, I haven't seen Luke either. He told me they were going out racing. My husband has already searched through Beggar's Canyon but no sight of them", Beru Lars sighed and blinked when she heard the answer over her comlink. "What, Tosche Station? Have you found anything there?"

She swallowed. "I see. Do you think it might be the Sandpeople? Yeah no, that doesn't sound like them. Imperials? In Anchorhead?" Beru glanced at Owen, who had stopped his pacing and was looking at her now with panic in his eyes. "If there are any arrests, word should have gotten out by now. We cannot think—"

" _What_?"' Beru snapped. "And Old Sam told you that?" She pursed her lips. "I know, but it makes no sense. Why wouldn't they report the arrest unless they've got something to hide...", she trailed off.

Realization overtook her.

"I—I got to go. I'll talk to you later." Beru quickly pressed a button and cut off the transmission. She put down the comlink with shaking hands and breathed out.

"What?", Owen pressed. "What happened?"

"I just spoke to Jaina Darklighter and she told me her son was missing as well. Turns out Old Sam told them that they were trying to take care of a wounded man back in Tosche Station. So they went there and found the place completely trashed. They think the Empire is behind it. Oh Owen, what if they found out about Luke and went looking for him?"

"That doesn't even matter. If he's caught, they'll find out one way or another", Owen clenched his jaw. "But I do not believe the Empire is behind this. We would have known. Must be the Sandpeople or the Hutts or—or—I'll look for him. I promise, I'll find him eventually."

"But what if it is? What if Darth Vader has finally found him?"

"It would be over if he did", Owen snapped, the sharpness in his eyes holding Beru back. "I _will not_ believe him lost. I refuse to believe it."

"It doesn't have to be… Obi-wan will know what to do. He can get him back."

"We do not need his help. He will only compromise Luke's safety."

"That safety already _is_ compromised!"

"You don't know that!", Owen yelled. Beru held her tongue, stepping back a little. The tense silence between them said it all. Her husband breathed in. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. I will find him, I promise."

Beru couldn't bring herself to say anything when he left.

Ever since Luke had gone missing, the tension between them had become unbearable. It had been a long-time fear that the Empire—Vader would find him, but now that the moment was finally here, Owen refused to believe it. It was a stubbornness he got from his father, Beru knew.

He was wasting his time trying to find their nephew or son, as they have long since seen him as, in these wastelands. If he truly was out there, Luke would've been able to find his way back a long time ago. No, if there were Imperials patrolling in Anchorhead, close to the trashed Tosche Station, like Jaina told her, then Beru could only assume the worst.

If Owen could not bring himself to act upon it, then she would have no choice but to do it in his stead.

She drank the last bit of Bantha Milk from her cup and left the kitchen. With Owen having taken their Landspeeder, Beru took their old speeder bike that was catching dust in the repair room. It had been ages since she'd last driven it. She hoped she hadn't outlearned it.

Beru dragged the speeder bike to the surface and wiped off the dust so she could see the controls. The energy levels read should have been able to make it to the edges of the Dune Sea and back. Although she didn't know exactly where Ben Kenobi's house was located, she had a good idea of it.

.

It took her a good twenty minutes to reach the secluded Jedi's hut. It would have taken her less, if she had known the exact location and hadn't driven past it the first time. Beru sighed and stepped off the speeder, her back stiff from the position she'd been in. She stretched; her old age was betraying her.

She saw a robed figure leaving the hut and breathed out in relief. At least she knew now that she was at the right place.

"Miss Lars?", Ben Kenobi asked, confused by her presence.

"Ben, it's Luke… We need your help."

"What? What happened?"

"He's taken by the Empire."

Ben Kenobi frowned and rubbed his bearded chin, in thought. "Are you sure?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here." Beru glanced around. His reaction was odd to say the least. "Please, Obi-Wan," using his real name to tell him how serious she really was, "you have to help him. If Vader has found out about him, everything would be lost."

"If Vader has found out, I would have felt it, I'm sure. It hasn't come to that, not yet at least." The old Jedi eyed her. "If Luke is taken by the Empire, they don't know of his heritage yet. We'd be able to retrieve him."

That took all of Beru's attention. "Are you able to get him back?"

"If we can locate him, then perhaps. Do you know where he is now?"

Beru shook her head sadly. "No, but there's a Star Destroyer orbiting the planet right now. It arrived here the day before yesterday. It came with extra Stormtroopers that are patrolling through Anchorhead right now. They might have set up a camp somewhere in Mos Eisley. If they would have a prison, it'd be there. Either that or in the Destroyer itself, but they never do that unless the person is proven guilty", she reasoned, combining both her gathered knowledge and the knowledge given by the Empire's protocols that were well-known to the public.

One of the things about protocols was that it could be turned against you; it made you predictable.

"Then I will investigate there first. Do you have any idea why he was taken?"

"I don't know", she trailed off before thinking of what Jaina Darklighter had told her. "I was told he and his friends were looking after a wounded man and that that was the reason why the Imperials raided Tosche Station. Do you think that man might be a criminal?"

"A Rebel, more likely." Ben stroked his beard. "If I won't be able to find Luke on Tatooine, I'll contact the Alliance. Maybe they have more information."

"You are in contact with the Rebel Alliance?"

"Haven't been for a very long time. Let's hope they still remember me", there was a glint in his eyes, full of amusement. Beru knew it was to soothe her a little, but she couldn't afford to give in just yet. Not until she knew her adoptive son was alright.

"Thank you", she said, meaning it with all her heart.

Ben nodded his head respectfully.

"I'll go home now. I have been away for too long." After all, if Luke wasn't actually caught, there was always a chance for him to come home again. It was a hope that still lingered in her heart, even if her mind was telling her differently. "Good luck, Master Jedi."

The look Ben gave her back was one of great sadness and remorse.

.

 _To be continued._


	3. Chapter Two

_I know it's been a long time._ _My apologies for the hiatus... Real life got in the way and will get in the way in the future as well. Updates will remain at odd times, but I have the story planned out so it'll be easier for me to write. I hope you'll like the chapter (and if you do, make sure to leave a review)._

 _Thanks DeltaCortis, WeylandCorp 4, The Hope Lions, Sktheiss, SiriuslyPink, Laddy-Daddy, Anon and SernaJ for leaving a review last chapter! I highly appreciate every kind of feedback you give me and it helps me motivate myself to write._

* * *

 **\- CHAPTER TWO -**

" _Ah, the lady of the house has finally arrived."_

" _Who are you?"_

" _My name is James Wright. I am with the Imperial Security Bureau."_

" _What is your business here?"_

" _I am here to take you in for suspicion of conspiracy against the Empire."_

.

.

Little could be said about what it was like to be a stormtrooper on the planet of Tatooine. There was a small outpost on the edge of the city of Mos Eisley, yet for years, it hadn't been occupied by the Imperials for more times than the regular inspections—which usually happened twice a month or more, depending on the reports that were sent out concerning the crime in and around the city. Troop Commander Levy or SN-58 as his superiors would sometimes call him, had been responsible for most of those reports or rather, the lack of information those reports contained. Just enough to avoid suspicion and too little suggest that they'd need reinforcements.

At hindsight, Levy found this behavior unfitting of his station, yet who could blame him? Those Academy officers knew little of how it was to be an armored stormtrooper on a desert planet where smugglers and scoundrels like the Hutts reigned supreme. The trouble he and his men had to go through just to not have their armor dysfunction thanks to the sand was unbearable.

Not to mention this _heat_. Unlike M-218F and KJ-17, who had both grown up and trained at a planet with similar conditions, Levy was not accustomed to what it was like to live on a planet with two suns. In fact, he was used to something entirely different; the planet of Gorn, where the conditions were rough and the planet's rotation and location made it so it was always dark and cold.

While he had been taught to completely abandon all forms of nationalization, he still looked back to it sometimes to remind himself how foolish he had been to think a planet with two suns was better than a planet with none.

Levy loathed this heat and the heat loathed him. While some would say the white armor reflected the sun, it was still an extra layer on his skin. What people seemed to forget was the thick and black jumpsuit stormtroopers had to wear underneath. A suit of torture, that's what it was.

So, when there were no inspections, he and his men had chosen to not wear them at all. At first, he had been surprised at how different the people seemed to approach him then, even though they still knew he was with the Empire. It was as if they suddenly realized that they were in fact also humans, like them. Just with different backgrounds and training. They had affiliated themselves with the locals and the locals had affiliated themselves with them.

And the criminals? They were looked over, ignored. Only the crimes that were in sight and impossible to overlook were fought against, but even then, if the criminal had an affiliation with the Hutts, they usually got away with it with a warning.

It was corrupt and when he had first been stationed here, Levy had fought against it with all his heart. The critique he had received, from his superiors no less, were enough to set anyone off course.

It was as if the Empire didn't _want_ to fight them.

After almost a year of being stationed here, Levy had learned to live with it, so he could at least enjoy his time here like any other human would.

Yet now, also that came to an end.

"I heard your squadron has found the Rebel insurgents. Is this true, SN-58?" His superior officer, Lieutenant Ward asked. She had been sent here merely days ago, together with the _Annihilator_. Her presence, together with the Scout squadrons and ground vehicles, had been a rather unwelcome surprise.

Levy felt his face harden underneath his helmet. It felt almost alien on his head. "Yes, ma'am. They were careless looking for a transport in a place like Anchorhead. They know little about the area, clearly."

"Only yes or no will suffice, Trooper." It was the incorrect way to call a Troop Commander—it would be either Commander, Platoon Leader or the full Troop Commander—yet Levy felt himself in no position to correct her. After all, he had lost all credibility to call himself that after his behavior here.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Where are they now?"

"We've got them locked up in their cells."

"Get them out of there."

"Ma'am?" He asked, confused.

"Tell your men to set up a public execution range. The citizens of this godforsaken planet have lived irresponsibly for too long. They need to know what happens to those that rebel against the Empire." That was a line he had heard too much these last few days. They wanted to oppress the citizens, yet left the criminal practices alone? It all seemed too inconsistent to him, yet he knew who was responsible for the sudden change.

"The Grand Moff has ordered this?"

"Do as you're told, Trooper, or I will have someone else do it for you," Lieutenant Ward answered coolly, completely ignoring his question. There was no respect in her voice. Then again, what was new.

He saluted and left the station. His men were there to wait for his command. Levy knew that they were as unhappy with the situation as he was. At least M-218F—or Chris as everyone called him—was. He didn't have to see his face to know that.

"What are our orders, sir?" JK-60 asked when Levy didn't speak immediately. He was better known to them as Jack. Jack had only been with them for a month and was perhaps the one who was the happiest with the reinforcements. However quick to adapt, there was still too much of the Military Academy in him. It removed all individual thoughts from his mind, like all stormtroopers were taught to do.

Commander Levy had hated it at first, yet now he realized that it had been jealousy—it was so much easier to be able to follow a command without questioning it. How much he wanted to be able to act like that again.

"The Rebels are to be executed. We're supposed to make a show of it, so others can see it as well. I want you, Gary, Reed and Breaker to set up a range. Platoon 3 and 4 should make sure all the citizens are present during the execution. I want you, Chris, to get word through to them to make sure they do their job. Sten—," some of his men snickered and Levy realized his mistake. "SN-40," he corrected himself, "you are with me."

"What will we do?" Stench asked. It was a nickname he hadn't been able to get rid of, if only because SN-40 hadn't been able to think of a different name himself.

"We'll help Platoon 2 get ready to take the prisoners to the range on my command."

Everyone went to their stations, yet next to Stench, another Trooper remained. "Yes, Chris?"

"Are we really gonna let them take command like this?"

Levy took a sharp breath, something he knew his men were able to hear thanks to his helmet's amplifiers. He didn't care. "SN-40, you can go ahead. I'll follow you later."

"Yes, sir."

Commander Levy waited until he was out of sight, before speaking again. "Chris, I know you would rather be with your new family, but we have duties now. Have you forgotten or are you that eager to abandon our cause already?"

"The Stormtrooper Corps is my life," Chris defended himself, "but I don't want to choose between that and Ilene." Ilene was Chris' wife, who he had been married to for four months now. Levy knew more about her than Chris himself, if only because of the amount of time he spoke of her when they were off-duty.

"I'm not asking that of you."

"Making her watch an execution will alienate her from me."

"She supports the Empire, doesn't she?" Chris nodded. "Then she'll understand."

Chris still seemed unsure.

"Look, Chris. Once those Rebels are out of the way, Grand Moff Tarkin will lose interest in this place. He'll go back to wherever he came from and will take those reinforcements back with him. Soon, things will be back to normal again. Whatever feud you have with your wife, you'll be able to solve then."

He admired the way he loved her, yet knew that on the long run, it would be better for them if they just did what they were told. And then, Levy could finally resign from his station and leave this place forever.

His dream to bring justice to those that deserved it—he wasn't worthy of it. Not anymore.

.

"A bit jumpy around the Imperials, aren't you?" The man in front of him asked. He was slumped in his seat as if he was relaxed about the situation. Yet Ben could hear the tenseness in his voice.

Ben moved his eyes away from the stormtroopers that were standing at the exit of the cantina. There were four instead of the usual two, meaning that they had business here of some kind. Although Ben didn't sense a direct threat, he was still wary. "There are an unusual amount of them here today. Any idea why?" He asked his companion—if one could call him that.

"Who knows, I like the stay out of the Empire's business."

Ben sat back in his chair. "I see… do you know anyone who might?"

"Why don't you ask them yourself?"

"I'm opting for something with a little bit more… discretion."

"If you want discretion, you should ask snake-head there at the bar." The man nodded his head to a green Twi'lek male that was sitting at the bar. _His head tail looks a bit like a snake indeed_ , Ben mused. "He knows his way around this place more than I do. Now, get lost, old man." He gave Ben a crooked grin.

Ben stood up. "Thank you. How long will you stay here?"

"With those Imperials here, not more than a day. Why?"

"I might be in need for a transport out of here in due time. Is there a way to contact you?"

"Something like that has a price, you know."

"We can discuss that later."

The man sighed. "Well, you can find me at Bay Seven, but at the end of the day I'll be gone. Want your way out any later, you're gonna have to find someone else."

Ben nodded. "I understand. Thank you for your time," he said and stood up from his chair. He pulled his hood over his head, hoping that the stormtroopers wouldn't take mind of him. They were hardly the observant type, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Walking towards the bar, Ben could feel the eyes of other strangers watching him, but that was to be expected at a place like this. Everyone was on edge today.

The Jedi asked the bartender for a drink, sitting next to the Twi'lek the smuggler had pointed at earlier. The green Twi'lek turned to him and spoke some words in Twi'leki, a language Ben was faintly familiar with. "Although I could make out a few words, I'm terribly out of practice," he informed him.

"Who are you?" The male translated. His eyes pierced right through him. They were green too, Ben noticed.

"Just a man who wants to gain some knowledge. He," Ben nodded to his companion, "told me you could give me that."

"Knowledge costs credits, human."

Ben took out five coins, making a total of 50 credits. "Will this be enough?"

The Twi'lek eyed the money. "Depends on the information."

"What are the Imperials planning?" Ben asked. The Twi'lek took the credits.

"They are planning to execute some prisoners today."

Ben felt his blood run cold. "An execution? Who are the prisoners?"

"Who knows?" From the Twi'lek's body language, Ben could deduce that he must know more, but had no intention of given the information unless he was given more credits. He didn't plan to give it to him as he would probably need it at a later time. Ben moved his hand under the table, using the Force to influence the Twi'lek's mind.

"You will tell me all you know about the prisoners," Ben said.

"I will tell you all I know about the prisoners," he echoed. There was a faraway look in his eyes. "I heard they were a couple of Rebels the Imperials have picked up in Anchorhead. That's all I know."

Anchorhead—that was where Luke and his friends had last been seen, as Beru had told him. "Is there a boy among them? Around 15 years old, blond hair, about this high?" Ben gestured the length.

"I don't know," the Twi'lek answered truthfully.

Ben scowled slightly. "Were they sure they were Rebels?"

"They seemed to be or else the security wouldn't be this tight. There are however rumors that there are a couple of civilians among them too. Apparently found helping the Rebels out at one point. If you ask me, they're probably seeking to use it as an excuse to corrupt this place, like they did with so many others."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Ben stood. "Thank you for your time." He left, passing by the stormtroopers with ease. Clearly, they had just been stationed there to put an eye on them, not to search for someone in particular.

The information he'd gotten had been worrying to say the least. As it seemed now, the Empire was holding a couple of Rebels into custody that they planned to execute later today. What made it so complicated, was whether Luke and his friends were among them or not. Ben was uncertain if he should believe those rumors or not. If he acted too hastily, he might lose his only chance and put the lives of others at risk, but if Luke was truly among them… he might be too late to save him.

 _Patience_ , he told himself, as he had done many times with his old Padawan. _The Force will guide the way. It has done so many times before and it won't fail me now._

.

The cells on Tatooine were exactly what you'd expect of them. Full of sand and dust with only the slightest amount of sunlight reaching the inside through a single window. The lack of sunlight was the one good part of being locked in here as it made the cells colder than the temperatures it must be outside.

With the air being as dry as it was, Brand couldn't help but cough to keep the dust out of his lungs. To no avail. They hadn't been given any water since they were caught back in Anchorhead and it was taking its toll on them. Lara had collapsed a few hours ago, her body not being able to handle the dehydration anymore, while both Brand and Tyr had felt their strength leaving them every minute that had passed.

From time to time, Stormtroopers would walk by and a while back Brand had asked them for some water, if only just for Lara, but with no results. The only thing he got was a blaster pointed at his face and a threat to "stay quiet, Rebel scum".

 _They must be enjoying this_ , Brand thought bitterly. After all, they had continuously outsmarted them during their stay here on Tatooine. After the crash, they had had countless of Imperial reinforcements after them but thanks to Tyr's ability to hide the transmissions from the device and Lara's quick thinking, they'd managed stay out of Imperial sight for enough time to be able to get away.

However instead, they'd lingered on the planet for too long. And Brand knew that he was the one to blame, even if the others didn't want to say it out loud. He was the one that had pushed it, continued to look for Wesley for much longer than he should have.

Realistically his wingman wouldn't have been able to get away. Not with so many Imperial searching teams scouting the area. The others thought him dead, saying that the mission was far too important to throw away for the sake of a dead man.

It had taken Brand too long to realise that as well.

And now they were here. Drying out in a cell that looked like it hadn't been used in ages with the device back in Imperial hands. Or at least, that's what they thought.

Instead, the Empire was holding a fake version of the device. The outer shell was from the original, of course. They hadn't had the time and resources to recreate a square box full with machinery to a point that the Empire wouldn't notice the difference between the two.

No, the only difference between the fake and the real one was the data chip that made out the core of the machinery. Without it, the device wouldn't be able to function.

Now all they could do was hope that the Empire wouldn't notice, until they were off this planet and back on Yavin IV. That is, if they would ever get out of this damned cell.

At this point, it was hopeless to try to make an escape. Not with one of them unconscious and the other two weakened to a point that they couldn't think about much other than water.

Water…

Oh, how he longed for it.

And when the Stormtroopers came to their cell and opened it, Brand dared to hope that they brought some. Even if it was only one drop.

But instead, they'd been picked up and dragged towards their deaths.

.

With the word about the execution range spreading faster than wildfire, it didn't take long for Ben to find the execution range. He kept his mind calm and serene, searching through the Force to find that bright presence that Luke always carried with him. However as Ben was walking through the crowd of people, he couldn't sense him.

Had he already been discovered and taken to the Star Destroyer that was in orbit or could it be that Beru Lars had been wrong? That Luke hadn't been caught in the first place and was instead lost?

Ben remembered the time he'd spend watching over him. The times where he'd go out discovering the area, even further once he got that landspeeder of his. It worried his aunt and uncle, it always did, but in the end, he'd always found his way home. No, Luke wasn't lost. He knew the area better than anyone.

Luke was in the hands of the Empire; Ben knew that with great certainty. The Force was pretty much screaming it at him. Warning him that something was about to happen. That something had already happened.

And Ben Kenobi had to stop it.

If Ben's worst expectations were true, he knew that he wouldn't be able to get Luke back on his own. A Jedi Master against a Star Destroyer? No… He's grown too old for that sort of nonsense.

Yet if there's anything that he could do, he would. He'd made a promise to keep Luke safe. It was his duty after all. And he knew that if Darth Vader or worse, the Emperor, would get a hold of him, it would have terrible consequences for not only the boy, but for the Galaxy as a whole.

The crowd around him started to murmur as a group of Stormtroopers walked towards the newly made shooting range. Ben realised that he'd already lingered here for too long. He had to leave before he'd expose himself any further.

Yet somewhere in the edge of his mind, the Force was urging him to stay.

An Imperial officer walked forward and stood on a stage so people had to look up to her as she spoke. Her voice was warm, but had a Coruscanti accent laced into it.

"Many years Tatooine has been able to live in health and prosperity under the rule of the Empire. It proves that even in the most desolated planets, with the most toughest of conditions, we're able to face the toughest of challenges", the officer began. Propaganda, Ben thought with a small sense of amusement. It never ceased to amaze him.

"Yet there are some that faced the other way. Chose to fight against the opportunity to have a better life. Chose to fight using… criminal ways." The officer paused for a second to let that notion linger in the crowd. "Today we stand here to prosecute the worst of the worst: terrorists. Rebels. Traitors. Too long has this scum lived among you. Like cockroaches, they were able to multiply under these pillars that support the Empire and like rats they chewed on the prosperity and opportunities of others. Of you, citizens of the Empire!

But no longer. No longer will we look away! No longer we will stand by and watch! Their time is over. And the Empire's time has only just begun."

The officer turned to Stormtrooper Commander behind her. The stormtrooper gave a signal and the prisoners were brought forward.

"As with all changes, we must start small but strong. These Rebels will be the first example for what would happen to any that dared to face the Empire, with many more to come. These are thieves, murderers, terrorists. The last remaining pilots that attacked our Imperial Shipyard at Fondor, killing dozens of loyal citizens without a second of thought."

The officer continued to talk about their crimes, not leaving out anything they've found on them. Ben thought deeply about what he was to do with this situation.

In his many years of isolation, Ben has seen many good men die that had not deserved it. That he could have saved. Hiding his identity, protecting Luke, his duty, had been more important than his own morals and wishes. Luke was too important for him to bring attention to himself and this planet. There was too much at stake.

Yet now with Luke most likely in captivity, it was a different story. Ben wouldn't be able to save him without the Empire taking notice that he was still alive. Surprise was his best asset here, yet even then, Ben had doubts that he would be able to enter a Star Destroyer unnoticed and get Luke out of there alive. That was something he simple couldn't do alone.

But he could save these people. Help them escape. The Rebellion needed every man they could get with their numbers going thinner and thinner with every challenge they took. The Rebellion needed _him._ Leia needed him.

If Luke was lost, then Leia would be their only hope. It would be catastrophic if both him and her would be in the hands of their father. Ben wouldn't let it get to that point.

In fact, together with the Alliance, they might be able to get Luke back after all.

All this was depending on whether Luke was caught or not. All balancing on a single string that could snap if he made the wrong decision. And if it did snap, it could make the situation worse than it already was.

As Ben disappeared into the crowd, he made his decision.

.

Commander Levy watched Lieutenant Ward's speech with small uninterest as she spoke. He couldn't relate to the things she spoke of even if he tried. Yes, Tatooine technically owned by the Empire, but it had never been a part of it. The Hutts ruled this planet. He knew it, his Platoon knew it and the people in the crowd knew it as well.

It was all a show. To make an example that was already being made in many parts of the galaxy before the Empire wasn't even a year old.

However, these people needed to be reminded of the Empire's control. Reminded that they weren't going to slack - not anymore. That is, until the reinforcements would be needed in a different system, leaving this planet to go back to its usual self again.

A lot could be said about what the Empire would do during that time, but it was all guess-work at this point. Lieutenant Ward was in charge of the military operations here on Tatooine and Levy had a feeling that this wouldn't change any time soon. This station wasn't befitting of her rank, especially not when it was as difficult as getting control over places like Mos Eisley back again.

This job should be given to a General. One with more experience and expertise than this Lieutenant could ever have.

However he wasn't a Grand Moff and why Tarkin had elected her to do this job, Levy had no clue. But he had to admit, Ward wasn't an incompetent leader from what he'd seen the last few days. Even with its faults, her speech was still causing the people to mutter amongst themselves and to look at the prisoners with disdain; mostly for them invading their peace and quiet like this.

"Sir, we've lost contact with Platoon 4," M-218F, Chris reported to him quietly.

Levy snapped his head towards him, instantly on guard. "That is our rear guard. Is Platoon 3 already notified to assist?"

"They're already guarding the crowd," Chris reminded him. Levy had forgotten. Another sign that he'd been slacking too much for too long.

With Platoon 2 already guarding the prisoners, it was up to them to assist instead. "Go with SN-40 and JK-60 to investigate then. Report to me immediately once you know something."

"Yes, sir."

They never came back.

.

 _To be continued._


End file.
